


Never forget to pay up for your mistakes

by ginsugi



Category: Gintama
Genre: Angst, Gen, Joui War, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29674605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginsugi/pseuds/ginsugi
Summary: There was no pain, or even anger; not even sadness. Instead of brimming with emotion, Gintoki was devoid of them.He couldn’t even remember if this was the first time he killed another human being. In this war, it was probably the first time.
Relationships: Katsura Kotarou & Sakata Gintoki, Sakata Gintoki & Takasugi Shinsuke
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Never forget to pay up for your mistakes

He had been careless.

It had only been a matter of seconds. A mistake.

And now there was a body laying on the ground because of him and he didn’t even notice at first.

  
  


_xxx_

  
  


When Gintoki thought about it, he didn’t even know the name of the man he killed. Maybe 'man' was the wrong word for it, because the lifeless body in front of him was just the one of a boy; maybe even younger than Gintoki. He tried to recall if he had any memories of him but nothing came to his mind. 

To his own surprise, he felt completely empty.

There was no pain, or even anger; not even sadness. Instead of brimming with emotion, Gintoki was devoid of them. 

He couldn’t even remember if this was the first time he killed another human being. In this war, it was probably the first time. 

But in the back of his mind, washed-out memories crept up: of him as a young child standing atop on rotten corpses on a random battlefield with a rusty katana he just found somewhere and he couldn’t tell if maybe one kick he gave a body laying there in order to grab some weeks old onigiri maybe ended a life which could have lasted maybe some hours longer.

Late at night when he still stayed at the battlefield (he really had nowhere else to go and going near any village would only enhance the risk of him getting killed himself) sometimes he heard sounds of something or someone approaching so he instinctively drew his katana and...

Gintoki shook his head and continued to stare on the ground, turning anywhere but in the direction of the person who died because of him. Who was most definitely not the first person who died through his hands.

Did he feel any guilt? He wasn’t sure of himself. But this enabled him to be alive this very day.

Gintoki was usually very aware of his surroundings, but just for one moment, he had no idea who it was that was shouting his name. It was probably Katsura who always worried the most about everything and anyway, but he chose to ignore it for the moment.

He didn’t even know how he made his way back to their base. His feet probably moved on his own, they did that often. On the battlefield he became someone else every time he stepped on it. ‘Shiroyasha’, a white demon, was the name everyone feared and remembered him by. He wasn’t Sakata Gintoki anymore in these moments; he transformed into a demon whose only purpose was to kill. And now, he even had killed someone on his own side, someone he was _supposed_ to protect, instead of the Amanto soldiers on the other side.

  
  


_xxx_

  
  


In the meantime, it became evening.

Gintoki hadn’t eaten anything but this wasn’t new, he often forgot to eat and drink after a battle unless someone reminded him to do so. No one knew where he got all this energy from, possibly not even himself. It was a thing they all, Gintoki included, took for granted.

Someone apparently had passed some food to him, Gintoki didn’t knew who it was and could care less at that moment, but if it had to be anyone, it was probably Katsura because he always acted like a mother around everyone in their troops, especially to Gintoki and Takasugi. Old habits die hard, or so they say. 

So Gintoki stuffed his cheeks with the food for the rest of dinner time. He barely noticed how it tasted. It was an automatic process for him, ingrained into him since his childhood. 

As time passed, more and more people left the room. Eventually only Takasugi was left besides Gin. Neither of them felt like talking, and it wasn’t as if they had anything new to talk about these days. Only the faint sound of Takasugi’s shamisen could be heard. Gin never cared for Takasugi’s music, but today he was too tired to even complain about it. 

“Oi, Gintoki.”

Even with all the food already gone, Gintoki still pretended to munch on it. But this tactic apparently didn’t work on Takasugi.

“That guy today… “

Gin did not respond, he just stared without interruption at the nearest wall and gave no indication that he even heard the other man. Takasugi decided to leave it at that, seeing as there was no use in asking any further judgement from the state Gintoki was. So he just continued to play his shamisen. 

After a while, Gin eventually fell asleep.

When he woke up the next day, he found a letter beside him, which was clearly not addressed to him. Takasugi later informed him that this letter was found in the pocket of the guy who died the day before. Before Gin could even talk back, Takasugi had insisted on keeping the letter.

“Who knows when you might need it,” he said.

“You’re making less sense than usual, Bakasugi,” was the only thing Gin could say to him.

Somehow, Gintoki did decide to keep the letter. Again, he didn’t know exactly why (maybe as a constant reminder of his failure).

  
  


_xxx_

  
  


Usually they never did bury their fallen comrades.

It was a waste of time, really, for there were way too many corpses on their side to even possibly be able to pay proper respects to. The most they could do was to close the eyes of the lifeless bodies on the ground and to stick their swords on the ground to make a makeshift grave, or at least a pathetic attempt to make something resembling a grave. 

This time it wasn’t any different.

Save for the guy Gintoki knew died because of him. Gintoki didn’t even know the guy personally, but he did know that he was one of his comrades. Not even that: a comrade that died from his very own hands. 

_‘Protect everyone for me, okay?’_

Protect… could these hands even protect? 

They weren’t even able to save a person next to him, no, they were even responsible for his death.

And now Gintoki started to actually think about the boy. 

Did he still have any family left? Had he been someone back home who actually missed him?

And did anything that actually matter? He was dead now, and the family probably will get to know about his death eventually, but still, this wouldn’t change anything that happened.

Their son was dead and wouldn’t, or more, couldn’t return home anymore. Then again… shouldn't the family have been prepared for their son dying in the war they let him go to? 

Thanks to Katsura’s yelling at him to finally stop staring into and finally get going ( _“Seriously, Gintoki, what is it with you today?”_ ) these thoughts stopped, at least for a couple of hours. 

Gintoki assured himself that he would be able to go on somehow. This was just a single _mistake_ you made, he told himself. “The others still need you” and “You still have to fulfill that promise you made with Shouyou” kept ringing through his head.

So Gintoki took a step forward. After all, it was the only thing he could do now.

_xxx_

  
  


Months later, they stopped at some small village. 

The _incident_ already slipped into complete obscurity. People died every single day this war lasted, be it by the enemy’s hand, some illness which got caught and even yes, more accidents where one soldier was responsible for the death of one of his comrades.

It was nothing special in the end.

Not that this was much reassuring for Gintoki. His comrades still died and just kept on dying. Even if his _mistake_ may actually have been only a common occurrence in a war, it didn’t change this fact. 

For some reason, he still had the strength to try every day. He himself didn’t know why he still could go like this, but he figured that it was no use to think about a matter like that.

_xxx_

  
  


Despite the war going on, Gintoki still hadn't lost his sweet tooth, so he was looking around in the village for some place who sold anything sweet. Luckily, it didn’t take him long to find a nice place.

As he entered the shop, a middle aged woman greeted him. She made a nice impression so maybe she would forgive if Gin didn’t have as much money as needed for what he wanted to buy. After all Gin-san still was poor and being a so-called hero didn’t change anything about the state of his wallet.

Just several seconds after he got the sweets he wanted, the woman said something very surprising to Gintoki.

“You’re the Shiroyasha, aren’t you?” 

Gin was taken aback by that. Usually no one approached him so directly with the fact that he was also known as the Shiroyasha. Besides, how did this lady even know who he was? They hadn’t done any fighting since they decided to stop at this village. Sure, Gintoki’s silver hair didn’t do anything to hide from it but still, just where the hell did the woman get this from?

“Me? The Shiroyasha? Surely you must have been mistaken.”

The lady slightly turned her head to a nearby window.

“My son wrote me letters, “ she said.

“Letters?” Gin could feel the old and bloodstained letter on the inside of his coat.

“He also went to the war, you see. I wanted to stop him from going at first, but his resolve turned out to be too strong for that. He really admired this Shiroyasha guy. Said it was an unimaginable honor to be able to fight alongside him. Of course I never found out if what he said was actually true. But you Sir would fit his description, so I just thought that maybe you knew my son.”

The woman still continued to look wistfully out the window. 

“What do you mean by ‘knew’? Are you meaning to say that your son…”

“I never got any confirmation, but I’m pretty sure he died. After a while the letters just stopped,” replied the lady who was now looking directly at Gintoki. 

“Well, first of all: do these dead-fish eyes look like the ones of a war hero to you, madam?”

The lady just looked blankly at Gintoki now. But he continued anyway.

“I never knew your son, I’m afraid. But I have one question for you instead? Did you think your son was happy with dying in the war? Even if to say… he accidentally died by the hands of one of his comrades?” 

The woman gave him a small smile.

“As I told you before. Going to the war was what he really wanted to do. He was a stupid kid, really. Leaving his old mother all alone here with the shop. But I’m sure he died with no regrets that way, don’t you think?” The woman turned her gaze to the window again.

“Well, if you say so, madam, “ Gintoki said while picking his nose.

“I guess it’s time for me to pay up,” he said while putting something on the counter.

He started to run away as fast as he could just seconds later, barging into the door and causing it to slam shut with a loud thud. It almost seemed that Gintoki’s feet had a mind of their own as he ran through the village. Running away was more Katsura’s style, he thought to himself with a wry smile. 

Just as the shopkeeper turned her head, Gintoki was already gone. As she noticed that there was no money on the counter, she cursed under her breath. But then, she noticed that the old piece of paper on the counter was not just some normal piece of paper.

It was her son’s last letter.

I forgive you this time Shiroyasha (but next time you’re gonna pay for the sweets), was what she thought as she closed her shop for the rest of the day to properly read the letter.

  
  


_end_

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old fic that for some reason I never got around to post until now. Many thanks to my bestie loveatthirdsight for proofreading this fic. Comments and kudos are always appreciated.


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